Three PM in La-La-Land

My internal clock has rolled back to sleeping from four in the morning to two in the afternoon. I’m now missing most of the day… again. I wish I could just manage a nine-to-nine schedule… it would be the next step up to becoming functional. But I can’t. I’ve failed again. I hated the look that my father gave me when he came to wake me up, the “here we go again” look, the one I see all the time now.

There is supposedly a BBQ at one of Leslie’s friends’ place tonight. Dad was invited, and he decided to invite us. I’m not going. The truth is that I don’t know whether I want to see her after the fight we had, so I just say no. I don’t want to go and wind up making a scene. I’m unsure of what the situation between us is. When my uncle asked my father if she put up a big fuss when he asked her to leave, he responded that she had accepted it. When she came to pick up her things, she didn’t make a sound and I didn’t even see her. She sent dad some comic about how she doesn’t need medication, only laughter, which he put on the fridge and I tore up because it made me feel bad. I wonder if she’s sorry at all. If she thinks that she’s right in trying to invoke respect from someone by being manipulative and beating someone who is thirty-some years younger than her.

I don’t get it. She said that all she wanted was to help us then she turned around and pulled this. Dad just said that her temper was out of control… he tried to justify it… but really, I think he’s being soft on her. Was everything I said a lie? When I said that when I said things rash I didn’t mean them most of the time, I wasn’t.

The world outside the window is sunny, but blurry. I need my glasses all the time now. I can’t see anything that is more than a foot and a half away from me. I have to put my glasses on to see the television. I haven’t even gotten used to wearing them yet – I still forget them at home when we go to restaurants.

It’s funny how the appearance of everything changes as the years go on. There was a short vine growing on the side of the house when we moved here ten years ago. It’s now dominated everything around it. The fence is rotted out, the gate is growing plants on it, and there is now a green canopy over the walkway in the backyard where once the trees were unhealthy and leafless even in summer. Not that the huge amount of rain we have gotten this year hasn’t helped some. It’s hard to believe that we are leaving, but I’m not sad. I’m looking forward to new things, even if I will have trouble adapting to my new surroundings at first. I will probably have days when I still feel grimy like I do today.

The view from the back porch.

The view from the back porch, with the old, rotted fence.

The once-small vines on the back of the house.
The once-small vines on the back of the house.
The tree-ling growing from the old gate.

The tree-ling growing from the old gate.

The new, unpainted fence.

The new, unpainted fence.

Today isn't really my day.

Today isn't really my day.

(By the way, the above picture features my insufferable bed head.)

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2 thoughts on “Three PM in La-La-Land

  1. Family troubles are rough. It seems like your dad hasn’t fully let go of Leslie either, why can’t he if she’s done terrible, unforgivable things to you? The “old” house looks very … unkempt. Perhaps moving is symbolic of letting go that which is old, dilapidated, overgrown … I hope your new surroundings will give you a fresh look on life. Do you know anything about the new area you’re moving into?

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